Karanja A. Ajanaku, former executive editor and associate publisher of The Tri-State Defender, died Tuesday, July 8, after an extended battle with liver cancer. He was 70.
Born Leroy Williams Jr. in Natchitoches, Louisiana, Ajanaku was raised in Kansas City, where his family moved when he was five years old. After graduating from high school and studying at the University of Missouri-Columbia, he boarded a bus headed east to Memphis.
Moderating the forum for the trio of Democrats seeking to be the nominee to face incumbent Shelby County District Attorney General Amy Weirich in the General Election were (l-r) Katherine Burgess, Karanja A. Ajanaku and Bev Johnson. (Courtesy photo)“I don’t think [The Commercial Appeal editors] were thinking deliberately, like, ‘Let’s make sure we put Black people on these three important beats,’” Sanford said. “No, it just happened. It was happenstance.”
What wasn’t happenstance was Ajanaku’s approach to covering Memphis, Sanford said. He praised his friend’s determination to tell a different type of story about being African American in Memphis.
“Karanja broke ground at The Commercial Appeal — how he wrote about, explained and identified issues around African Americans in Memphis in a way that had never been done,” Sanford said.
In 1986, influenced by philosopher Nkosi Ajanaku, he legally changed his name to Karanja Aidoo Ajanaku — symbolic of his evolving African and American identity. He wrote about it in 2010 on his personal blog.
“Karanja means ‘guide,’” he wrote. “My middle name is ‘Aidoo.’ It means ‘one who puts things in place; sets things in order.’ Ajanaku (as redefined here in Memphis) means ‘free and wealthy people.’
“So I am the guide who sets things in order for free and wealthy people,” he continued.
TSD Associate Publisher/Executive Editor Karanja A. Ajanaku talks with Van Turner Jr. about the Juneteenth Urban Music Festival and the future of Health Sciences Park. (Photo: Shirley Jackson)Ajanaku left The Commercial Appeal in the early 2000s. “He left because … I don’t think he saw a meaningful role for himself going forward,” Sanford said. “And he decided to go and do something else.
“That something else eventually wound up being editor and associate publisher of The Tri-State Defender.”
In 2007, “Dr. K.” joined the staff at The Tri-State Defender, where he not only wrote and edited much of the content, but willingly trained and developed talent — as long as they were willing to show up and do the work. Ask Warren Roseborough, a photographer who started working with Ajanaku upon his arrival.
“I could take pictures. But Doc? He taught me how to be a photojournalist,” Roseborough said, holding back emotion. “He was brash, but that’s okay. It’s because he was trying to make you better.”
For more than 10 years now, Roseborough has been TSD’s go-to sports photographer — a lane for which he gives Ajanaku credit. Ajanaku, who was also an avid photographer, recalled times when the two patrolled the sidelines at football games — and he’d ask Roseborough for tips.
TSD Associate Publisher/Executive Editor Karanja A. Ajanaku, most outstanding publisher/editor. (Photo: Gary S. Whitlow/GSW Enterprises)“Doc put his reins around me, and I became a pretty good damn photographer — a damn pretty good journalist,” Roseborough said. “That man was something else. God, he’s gonna be missed.”
Under his leadership, the paper upheld its historic mission of delivering “verified information that people can use to be able to make decisions about empowerment” and amplifying African American voices in a majority-Black city.
“Memphis is a majority African American city,” Ajanaku told Memphis magazine in 2018. “We are sure that if we provide the community with what it needs today, that they will respond relative to readership and support.
“If you’re going to live in a democratic republic, you’re going to live where the individual has to be informed, and if he doesn’t have the tools to take in the information and make informed decisions, you’ve got a problem,” he said.
Whether he was Leroy Williams or Karanja Ajanaku, that curiosity, character and moral clarity never changed, said Ron Williams, his younger brother.
“He was always a seeker,” he said. “Even before he changed his name, he was searching for something deeper — something that would give his life and his work a greater sense of purpose. And once he found that, once he understood the power of words and history and truth, he never let go of it.”
He described Ajanaku as both “relentless and reflective,” someone who didn’t just chase stories, but also wrestled with their meaning. “He saw journalism as more than a job — it was a calling. He believed our people deserved the truth, told with dignity and context.”
Even in his final days, he said, Ajanaku remained deeply engaged with ideas and people.
“He was tired, yes. But his mind was always moving — always thinking about the community, about young people, about what still needed to be said. That was Karanja. He never stopped trying to build something bigger than himself.”
Ajanaku is survived by a son, a daughter, a brother, a sister and multiple grandchildren. Arrangements are pending, Williams said.